


We're not broken...just bent.

by anonymousduchess



Series: Little Do You Know [1]
Category: DC Cinematic Universe, DCEU, Post-Justice League (2017) - Fandom
Genre: !! happy ending happens in part 3 !!, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bruce needs to use his words, Diana and Alfred have had enough of this nonsense, Fluff and Angst, Lois is the best friend everyone needs, M/M, Misunderstandings, Sometimes even Superman can have self-esteem issues, light to heavy angst
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-10
Updated: 2018-02-27
Packaged: 2019-01-16 09:29:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 19,046
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12340002
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anonymousduchess/pseuds/anonymousduchess
Summary: An article headline sends Clark into a downward spiral despite his best efforts to stop it. Bruce has something important that he needs to discuss with Clark, but the reporter is suddenly acting differently around him.





	1. Bad at love.

**Author's Note:**

> I have no idea how the movies plan on bringing Clark Kent's reporter identity back, so I kind of hand-waved that stuff for now. There isn't a set timeline for this fic, but it definitely happens some time after the events in Justice League.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An article headline sends Clark into a downward spiral despite his best efforts to stop it. Bruce has something important that he needs to discuss with Clark, but the reporter is suddenly acting differently around him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have no idea how the movies plan on bringing Clark Kent's reporter identity back, so I kind of hand-waved that stuff for now. There isn't a set timeline for this fic, but it definitely happens some time after the events in Justice League.
> 
> **Also, I promise promise /promise/ that I haven't forgotten about my cat!Bruce fic. You all have just been so supportive and appreciative of the story, and I appreciate that so much! But that also means that I want to be able to make the ending one of the best endings ever! So please continue to bear with me until I can finally find the time to finish it. Thank you!!<3 For now, I hope you'll enjoy this new story!
> 
> **Also also, I wanted to post these chapters before the draft ran out. I have them saved on my computer, but I didn't want to lose the notes (and I was too lazy to copy and paste them in the documents...don't judge me). BUT my point is that I wanted to ask everyone if they would prefer the next update to be edited to make this whole story into a one-shot or if they would prefer to have it be a series that is updated. I've never done a long one-shot and I was hoping to accomplish that with this story idea, but I don't have to.

_"Prince of Gotham Has An 'Unremarkable' New Beau?"_

The headline stares him down, daring him to click on it and read further. It wasn't the subject of the article that surprised Clark (on the contrary, he got used to seeing odd headlines about "Bruce Wayne" a long time ago). No, what surprised Clark was the small picture (poorly edited, might he add) of  _him_ with Bruce Wayne. And yes, okay, the whole point of his civilian identity is to make sure he's able to blend in with society and not give anyone a reason to suspect that he's also Superman, but there's something about the timing of the article that really hits a nerve.

He knows that it's a mistake, but he reads the article, anyway. Instead of frustration, he just begins to feel numb as he scrolls through the writing. 

_"A source close to the reporter claims that he's 'nothing special,' even though Bruce Wayne seems to be completely smitten with this Clark Kent."_

Clark scoffs, knowing that whenever Bruce would allow himself to appear "smitten" in front of the media, it would only be an act. ...He pushes away the bitter feeling; he knows that Bruce isn't the type of person to outwardly show affection. Still...does he have to be so aloof after the cameras are gone? And things have only been getting worse. Bruce has been distant and despite the best efforts of his teammates, Clark isn't stupid. Oh, of course he pretends that he doesn't notice, but that's only because it's easier to act like nothing is wrong––the less he has to suffer pitying looks and "talks," the better.

The rest of the article goes on to list Bruce Wayne's previous partners--all female. Clark realizes that they only once acknowledged the fact that, for both of them, this is the first serious relationship with someone of the same sex. And sometimes Clark can't help but wonder if Bruce misses sleeping with women. They're softer, sweeter, and more feminine, obviously... Clark doesn't miss it.

His stomach can't help but churn as he quickly skims over the pictures of the models and actresses flooding the pages, and he breathes an audible sigh of relief when he gets to the last paragraph of the article. Oh, what a surprise, the writer is questioning Bruce's sexuality and gives theories as to why Bruce would be dating a boring  _reporter_ who, according to quite a few people, "isn't the best writer, anyway." Could this reporter have some blackmail on Wayne? This is probably just a fling, right? Wayne is probably just experimenting later on in life (that makes Clark frown in disgust...how people can so callously mention things like that...), so it won't be a surprise when the newness of it all burns out. Mr. Kent isn't  _that_ bad on the eyes--definitely not Bruce's type, but he has nice eyes and a strong jaw.

Clark stops reading when he starts seeing red, and he closes the article with a click of the mouse that's a bit more forceful than he'd intended.

"I could hear the small break all the way over at my desk," Lois warns in a whisper as she rolls her way over to Clark's desk.

Clark looks down at the mouse and, sure enough, there's a small crack running down the middle of it. "I'll get a new one," he mutters.

A deep frown forms on Lois's face and she crosses her arms. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing."

A dramatic sigh from the redhead. "Are we really doing this?"

Clark takes a moment to think; how much does he want Lois to know? They'd both realized (after Clark came back from the dead, basically) that things just couldn't work out between them anymore. It had been painful and there was definitely an awkward time where they weren't sure how to act around each other after the breakup, but eventually, they were able to be friends again. Lois had even mentioned recently that a certain someone caught her eye, but Clark couldn't get her to give him a name... Yet.

"When we were together..." He isn't sure how to phrase the question. "If I wasn't," he lowers his voice and leans in closer, "Superman, would you have noticed me at all?"

Lois tilts her head. "Of course. I had to do a double-take when I first met you. It had been years since I'd seen someone wearing plaid the way you did."

She was trying for humor but immediately knows that it had the opposite effect when something flashes in Clark's eyes and he turns away, starting to close himself off.

"Hey," she tries gently, placing her hand on her shoulder and tugging him around to face her again. "What is it?"

It seems like it's a chore for Clark to speak again. He rolls his eyes. "Can you give me a serious answer, please?"

"I was being serious. But that wasn't the only reason I noticed you. After the plaid, I saw your smile. It was the most genuine smile I'd seen in a long time, and your eyes were kind. I thought to myself, 'He's going to get eaten alive in this office if he's as honest as he appears.'"

Clark isn't sure what to do with that information, so he merely continues the conversation. "Okay, so you noticed all of that about me. Did it, I don't know... Stay with you? Or maybe I should ask that if you never found out that I was also Superman, do you think we would have stayed together for as long as we did? Would we have even been in such a committed relationship?"

Lois bites her lip, causing Clark to think that she's trying to think of a way to let him down gently. He turns away again with a short, "Nevermind," but Lois shakes her head. 

"You're impatient today. If you're looking for an honest answer, then yes, I think our relationship would have been as strong as it was if you were just a boring human." She offers another bit of humor and is rewarded by a half-smile from her friend. "You have a passion for your work, Clark, and that's something rare these days. What's even rarer is how you don't compromise for the sake of a story. It's a lot more hard work to get information as honestly as possible, but I've seen you do it. You're funny, selfless, and your good looks only add to your good traits."

"So I'm not 'plain' or 'unremarkable?'"

Lois frowns again. "I thought you try to appear that way so you don't draw attention to yourself?" 

"I do, but..." Clark sighs in frustration and runs his fingers through his hair. 

Lois understands what he means and has mercy on him by answering before he has to elaborate. "'Clark Kent, Reporter,' has an almost professorial or 'boy-next-door' kind of charm about him. And when you really get a good look at him, you can see an attractiveness there. But he never lets your gaze linger on him for too long."

The answer helps more than Clark thought it would, surprisingly. He smiles gratefully at Lois.

"Thanks," he says.

She returns the smile, but doesn't let it end there. "What brought all of this on?"

Clark groans quietly. "Long story short, Bruce has been distant lately, and I'm not the only one who's noticed. Then I just read an article speculating on the relationship between Bruce Wayne and 'unremarkable reporter' Clark Kent."

Lois looks worried. "Your picture...?"

Clark shakes his head. "The same picture that's on my press pass: black-and-white and blurry. Very dull."

After a sigh of relief, Lois leans back into her chair in contemplation. "Maybe Bruce just has a lot on his mind. And from what you've told me about him, and what I've seen the few times I've had an actual conversation with the real Bruce Wayne, he's awfully moody."

That almost makes Clark laugh, but this situation is serious. "This is more than just his typical broody nature, Lois."

Lois squeezes Clark's arm in a comforting gesture. "I wouldn't worry about it for now. Maybe he's feeling guilty about something, who knows. But if this continues, don't hesitate to ask me for advice on how to make him jealous." She winks playfully but Clark knows that she is completely serious. It wouldn't be her, that would just be mean (and bring up Bruce's old jealousy and, though he'd never admit it,  _slight_ insecurity about that past relationship) and Bruce more than likely wouldn't fall for it. But Clark doesn't doubt for a second that Lois could talk a pretty woman or handsome fellow into pretending to be Clark's date or secret admirer for a while.

"I'll keep that as Plan B, thanks."

Lois gives him a thumbs up before rolling back to her desk.

The talk with one of his best friends has him feeling a little better, and he's able to get through the workday without the constant nagging doubt in his mind.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Bruce stares at the small box on the desk and turns it around. Then he picks it up, feels the weight of it in his hand, flips it, and sets it back down.

"If I have to watch that box go flying into the air one more time..." Alfred threatens from the workbench.

Bruce shouldn't be surprised by anything Alfred can notice at this point, but he is, anyway. He blinks and looks at the box again. "It's not going to break, Alfred."

"No, not in that mini-safe you've put it in. I am, however, concerned about the lining."

"Clark can't see through lead," Bruce replies rotely. They've been over this.

"Precisely," Alfred says pointedly.

"He's never going to see it if I don't want him to."

"I think he suspects something, Master Wayne." There's a note of caution in Alfred's tone that makes Bruce focus all of his attention on the older man.

"Then I'll just move it to the safe down here where I keep other Bat-related things." And did he really just say " _Bat-related_ things?" "He can't see in there, either, and he doesn't have the code."

"Such a trusting relationship you both have," Alfred mutters under his breath.

"You know why he doesn't have access, Alfred. I would have given it to him, eventually, until this." He holds up the box. 

"And, if you have your way, that will sit in the safe collecting dust for eternity. You have to make a decision, Bruce."

He knows that. He  _knows_ that, and still, Alfred insists on reminding him every day. It's not an easy conversation to have, and he knows he shouldn't avoid it, but Clark's knowledge will change everything. Bruce can't be certain if things will remain the same between them (which would be a huge relief) or if things will drastically change.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Clark doesn't mean to listen in on the conversation. It just sort of... happens. He'd honestly only intended to listen to Bruce's heartbeat to see if he was still at home, but then he'd caught the last few words of Alfred's warning. Well, that discussion certainly adds more to Clark's initial suspicions. Clark would be glad to give Bruce kryptonite if he asked for it (Bruce is the only one Clark can trust to make the decision to use it only when absolutely necessary), but he figured the Bat already had tons of it stored away somewhere. And yeah, it bothers Clark a little that they haven't once discussed it, but Clark's pretty understanding. But this?

Clark isn't sure what to do with this new information, and he knows that he shouldn't jump to conclusions, but it's difficult not to. As he flies back to the house, he tries to think of ways he can act like nothing is wrong.

Bruce is actually there to greet him when Clark walks through the door, and that causes Clark to stop dead in his tracks. "Oh, uh, hi," he says awkwardly.

Bruce immediately becomes suspicious. "Hi," he repeats with a skeptical frown, crossing his arms.

Clark grips the strap of his messenger bag and looks around quickly as he searches for something to say. "I thought you'd be downstairs."

There's a brief but uncomfortable silence before Bruce speaks again. "I figured it might be nice for me to be here and let you talk about how your day went."

He's obviously uncomfortable and uncertain, and if Clark hadn't overheard an earlier conversation, he might have found it endearing. Instead, he only laughs slightly and finally puts his messenger bag by the couch.

"You don't have to do that, Bruce. I don't expect us to be that kind of couple." If his tone is a little snippy, he pays it no mind.

Bruce, however, seems personally offended; only slightly, mind you, but offended nonetheless.

"What kind of couple do you expect us to be?"

Clark sighs. "I didn't mean that I expect us to be a certain kind of couple. I only meant... Do you  _really_ care about how my day went?"

At this point, Clark shouldn't take Bruce's hesitation personally, but it's unavoidable.

"Yes," Bruce says, and Clark hates how he can't tell if Bruce is lying or not. As usual, Bruce's heartbeat is steady and his poker face is unreadable.

"It was a pretty normal day. Uneventful, except for-" He cuts himself off and goes into the kitchen.

"Except for?" Bruce follows him, still keeping his arms crossed.

It takes all of Clark's remaining inner strength to not crush the refrigerator door handle. "Just some poorly written articles that I had to read." Not a complete lie. "Anything happen here? Any League business I should know about?"

"Nothing new. Diana stopped by earlier."

"Of course she did," Clark mutters, not expecting Bruce to hear him. He grabs a bottle of water and heads back into the living room.

"What was that?" Bruce's tone is clipped. He's definitely irritated now.

Tired of dodging questions, Clark just replies, "I said 'Of course she did.'"

"What's wrong with that? You've never minded before."

"I know I've never had a problem with it before, Bruce. I don't feel good, okay? Can we just forget I said anything?" He sits down on the couch and closes his eyes, resting his head in his palm.

A little bit of concern mixes with the frustration on Bruce's face, but he simply moves to stand in front of Clark to get a good look at him. "You don't feel good? Are you being serious right now or are you avoiding the conversation?"

"I'm pretty sure I'm capable of being sick of a conversation!" He doesn't yell, but he's more outspoken than usual. 

Bruce is visibly taken-aback, but Clark can't find it in himself to feel guilty about it. If anything, he's kind of satisfied to see Bruce shocked.

"Ah, I'd been wondering when your relationship would get to this point. It was only a matter of time," Alfred says as he steps into the living room. 

Clark scoffs, causing Alfred to blink at him in confusion. 

"I'm surprised it didn't happen sooner. We sound like an old married couple, right?"

"Clark-"

Bruce is cut off by a wave of Clark's hand. "Let's just drop this, okay? I'm sorry. I'm just mentally rundown right now and I'd prefer to read a book or something."

Bruce's jaw works as though he's debating on whether to say something important, but in the end, his eyes steel over and he nods briefly. "Fine."

There's a momentary staredown as they try to see who will walk away first, but it's Clark that breaks. "Fine. I'll be in the bedroom." He grabs his messenger bag and walks towards solitude.

"I'll be downstairs." Bruce walks away, too.

Alfred makes his way to the kitchen and makes sure that his tongue isn't bleeding from biting down on it too much.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Against his better judgment, Clark finds that article and reads it again. It's from a stupid gossip magazine; he shouldn't even care. Why does he even care?

Because it only feeds into his doubts that Bruce is realizing how boring the real Clark Kent is; Bruce has now spent enough one-on-one time alone with Clark to be over the allure of Superman. 

It had been a surprise to think that, even though Bruce no longer hated Superman, he could be capable of romantic feelings for the hero he once hated.

Clark had known that it was all too good to be true. He should have never agreed to move in with Bruce; that only sped up the process.

He closes his laptop with a sigh and places it on the nightstand before resting his head on the pillow and covering his face with his hands. He tries to think about what Lois said: how Clark Kent was attractive if one was able to get a good look at him. If that's the case, why did it seem like Bruce was getting bored with him? 

He growls in frustration and sits up. He hates this; he hates feeling like this: some insecure, love-struck teenager wallowing in self-pity. What he needs is a good flight before bed, he thinks. So, he suits up and leaves out of the sliding glass door.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

There were only a few emergencies that needed Superman's assistance, but once he'd done his job, he let the emergency teams take over. As he lands outside of the sliding glass doors leading to the bedroom, he's surprised to see that Bruce is already in bed.

 Ah, so he hadn't been moved to the sofa, then. Clark almost laughs at the resemblance of an angry husband and wife they made earlier today, but the dread of going back inside the house makes his chest too heavy for laughter.

He takes off his suit, takes a quick shower, and takes his time getting ready for bed. Once it's time for him to slide in next to Bruce, Clark hesitates. By his heartbeat, it sounds like Bruce is asleep. But he's managed to fool Clark before.

Taking a deep breath, Clark pulls back the covers and slowly climbs onto the bed. Bruce's back is turned to him, but Clark studies him, anyway. Now that the day is over, he does feel bad for snapping at Bruce. He really shouldn't jump to conclusions. Besides, he's always asking Bruce to trust him more, so Clark should do the same thing; it isn't fair to Bruce. 

He sidles in closer to Bruce and places a soft kiss on the sleeping man's shoulder. "I'm sorry," he breathes into Bruce's hair before settling down and closing his eyes.

Meanwhile, Bruce thinks to himself,  _"I'm sorry, too."_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm wondering if I should put in some minor Diana/Lois in here, too? I can see the appeal of that ship in this universe. Or I can just make them be best friends. Let me know!


	2. Battleships

Bruce is seething with anger. Clark can see the red aura surrounding him right now.

Surprisingly, Bruce doesn't start chewing Clark out when the team regroups. He simply pulls off his cowl, tosses it on his desk, and begins taking off the sharper parts of his armor.

"Are you alright, Kal?" Diana asks, placing a hand on Clark's arm. 

"Yeah, I'm okay. Are you?" He feels horrible about what happened. Before Diana can answer, Clark turns around and faces the rest of the team. "Are any of you hurt?"

Arthur waves his hand dismissively and smiles like an amused shark. "A few scratches here and there, but that's nothing compared to the injuries I've had before."

Flash nods. "I'm fine, Big Guy. I was just worried about you."

"What were you thinking, Clark?" Bruce barks out, walking up to Clark.

Clark lowers his eyes and fights back the rising shame he's feeling.

"Bruce–" Diana tries, but Bruce cuts her off.

"No, Diana. Clark has to learn that he can't just go flying off like that. He needs to stick to the plan, or things like this happen! He endangered all of you!"

"In case you weren't paying attention, I was hurt, too, Bruce," Clark bites out.

"It was your own fault!"

That cuts deeper than it should, but Clark presses on. It's easier to feel angry than it is to feel ashamed. "I was trying to help! I saw the threat and I took him out."

"Once again, Clark, you overlooked the fact that it was a decoy." Bruce is speaking to him as though he's a child, and Clark can feel his anger growing.

"I was easily able to correct my mistake–"

"But what happens when you can't?!" Everyone is stunned into silence at the sudden rise in Bruce's voice level. "You're too cocky, Clark. And you risk the lives of others."

"You think I don't care about that? I was trying to look out for them!"

"But instead you, once again, put all of us in danger because your pride got in the way! Will you ever  _listen_ to me for once in your life, Clark?!"

"I  _do_ listen to you! All the time! But you never seem to want to listen to what I have to say."

Barry, feeling helpless, tries to help lighten things up with humor. He leans closer to Cyborg and mock-whispers, "Mom and Dad are fighting again."

That is definitely the wrong thing to say. Bruce whips his head in Barry's direction with an expression that could kill.

Barry drops his gaze and mumbles out an apology.

Bruce looks back at Clark. "You don't listen to me when it comes to the most important thing: looking out for your teammates!" Bruce's eyes darken. "If Diana hadn't used her shield at the last minute to deflect that energy beam, we all would be burnt to a crisp right now." His voice is low and cold. "And you would have still been fighting that machine."

Clark hates everything about this, because he knows that Bruce is right. Clark knows that his decision was idiotic and dangerous, but he really had been only trying to help. But it seems like Bruce doesn't believe him. Clark keeps his gaze lowered. His throat is tight with emotion, but he manages to rasp out, "If that had happened, I don't know if I could live with myself."

Bruce snorts and backs up. "So you would rather die again than own up to your mistake and continue saving people?"

The question is so unexpected and, considering how much Bruce has changed his approach when scolding others, out of character for him. It makes Clark's stomach drop to the floor and his eyes are burning with angry tears. How dare Bruce suggest such a thing.

"You know that's not what I meant," he says quietly.

"Then stop acting so foolish and stay alive!" Bruce storms over to him again and looks him in the eye. "I don't think you realize how important the team's safety is. Nor do I think that you truly know your value to the people of Earth, Clark. They need you far more than they need any of us.  _That's_ why you need to stop going in blind and risk getting killed again."

Clark knows that his eyes are probably glistening by now, but he's proud of the fact that no tears have broken free yet. He lifts his chin and stares at Bruce, trying to see a sign of any other emotion except anger. " _That's_ the reason why I need to make sure I stay alive." It's not a question. His voice is detached and numb; he hardly recognizes it. It concerns Bruce, too, but he quickly covers it up the brief falter in his expression.

Clark takes a deep breath to try and calm himself down. "That's the only reason you're concerned about my safety?"

"Yes," Bruce hisses, seemingly a bit relieved. "You're finally getting it." He turns around and takes off his utility belt. The meeting is over, apparently.

"Kal..." Diana's voice is so soft that Clark knows he's the only one who can hear it. 

"Don't, Diana." He barely manages to get those two words out before he's finally feeling tears on his cheeks. "Please. Not now. It doesn't matter."

You wouldn't know it by looking at him, but Arthur actually doesn't think it's a weakness to be able to cry. 

Clark had thought the same thing about Bruce, for awhile, but that was probably a lie.

Before he turns to face the other men of the team, Clark brushes away the tears and takes another breath to compose himself. 

The pitying looks on their faces makes Clark's shame rise again. He doesn't want them looking at him like that. It's embarrassing enough right now. 

"I'm sorry again," he states.

Cyborg shakes his head. "It happens, man. It's all good now."

"Apparently it isn't," Clark bites, but it's directed over his shoulder at Bruce. Then he turns to look back at his other teammates but he can't make himself muster up even the tiniest smile. "I'll see you all later." With that, he's out of the cave in an instant.

Bruce turns around and is taken aback by the glares he is receiving. "What?" He asks irritably.

Aquaman shakes his head and barks out a scoff. "Not cool, man." And then he's leaving, too.

Barry looks like someone who's just been dumped: completely hopeless. "I... Later." He's gone in an instant.

Cyborg doesn't say a word and simply exits the cave.

Diana is standing there with her arms crossed and the meanest expression Bruce has ever seen on her.

"I can't believe you, Bruce!" She says indignantly.

"What? Clark put the team in danger. He needed to be called out on it."

"But was the rest of that really necessary?!" Her voice cracks.

It's obvious that Bruce doesn't know what she's talking about, and Diana drops her arms and sighs in exasperation. "Unbelievable. Why don't you look back on what you just told Kal? Then you'll see what I mean. I know you have cameras and microphones everywhere." She's said her peace and she tops it off with a dramatic exit from the cave.

The petty part of Bruce really doesn't want to watch the security video, but if whatever slip-up of his is fraying the team, he needs to figure out what it is and fix it. He sighs and types in the code to bring up the security video. Nothing seems to be out of the ordinary except...

 _"_ That's _the only reason you're concerned about my safety?"_

 _"_ Yes _. You're finally getting it."_

The look on Clark's face... Bruce sinks down into his chair and places his head in his hands. 

 _Shit._  


	3. Feel like we've been falling down.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for all of the comments and kudos! And a special shoutout to the readers who just enjoy the story. Respect. :) Anyway, here's the next chapter! After the next chapter, do you all want me to merge it into a one-shot in a final update? Or do you want me to keep going by chapters? Let me know!<3

Clark doesn't return home after he leaves the cave.

Home.

He thinks about the Lakehouse with an odd sort of detachment as he stares up at the Kansas stars. Ma isn't expecting him, but he doesn't think he'll be staying, anyway. He should go back to the house and get some work done on his next article, but his heart wouldn't be in it.

"Clark? Is that you out there?" Ma's voice calls from the porch and sounds uncertain.

Clark turns around and waves, although he probably just looks like a shadow from this distance. He makes his way over to the porch and smiles softly.

"Oh, it is you! You about scared me to death. Is everything alright?" She wraps her shawl tighter around her shoulders and steps closer to Clark.

He doesn't want his mother to be out here in the cold, so he places a hand on her upper back and accompanies her back into the house. Once the door is shut and locked, Martha goes right to the stove to make some tea.

"I don't think I'll be staying," Clark begins hesitantly.

Martha waves a hand and shakes her head. "Some of the tea was going to be for me, too. You don't have to stay if you don't want. But what's wrong, honey?" She puts the kettle on before sitting down across from Clark. Her hand reaches across the table and connects with his own, and her gaze is knowing.

Clark can't look her in the eye. "I don't know where to start..."

Martha rubs her thumb across Clark's knuckles in a soothing manner while she patiently waits for him to speak again.

Clark takes a deep breath and shakes his head before blurting out, "Bruce doesn't care if I die."

The statement clearly takes Martha by surprise. Her eyes widen and she leans back slightly in her chair. "What?"

"There was a battle. Everything's okay now, but I messed up. I got so caught up in trying to protect my teammates and ending the battle quickly that I flew right into a trap. If it hadn't been for Diana, the team would have died." He glances briefly at his mother but can't read her expression. "Bruce was mad, and I can't really blame him. I was mad at myself, too. But his words... Apparently, the only reason I need to make sure that I stay alive is that the world needs me more than any of the other members of the League."

Martha tilts her head slightly, obviously not understanding the point.

Clark sighs in frustration. "I repeated those words back to him in order to give him a chance to add 'I need you, too' or anything along those lines, but he didn't."

Martha's eyes narrow and her brow furrows in concentration. "Are you sure that's what he meant, hon?"

Clark feels his frustration begin to rise but he refuses to lose his temper in front of his mother. "Yes," is all he says in reply.

Martha is silent for a long minute before she shakes her head in bewilderment. "I don't understand it... Clark, I think you need to talk to Bruce. You know he isn't good with words–"

"He's an expert at words, Ma! He's  _Bruce Wayne_ ," Clark interjects.

Martha's face remains patient. "He's not an expert when it comes to the people who really matter to him."

Clark can't find anything to say to that, so he stays quiet.

"Has anything else happened?" Martha asks.

There's a moment where Clark hesitates because he feels, well, silly. He doesn't know how he should explain it, so he just settles for the least complicated version.

"I think Bruce is bored of me," he states.

Martha sputters out a surprised laugh but talks before Clark can say anything. "What on earth would make you think that?"

Clark frowns and straightens his posture a little defensively. "I'm not much, Ma. Not without Superman."

Martha's smile completely disappears and is replaced with a stern expression. "You don't talk about yourself that way. Not in front of me."

"I'm sorry, but it's true. I'm not that interesting or complex of a person. I don't regret the person I am, but I admit that it's not the most exciting."

Martha shakes her head; she isn't having any of this. "Clark Joseph Kent, you are the sweetest man I know. Take away all of your powers, and you're the same."

"Bruce isn't used to  _normal_ , Ma."

"'Normal' is exactly what he needs in his life, Clark, and he gets that with you. Not when you're both off saving people, of course, but I bet when you're just yourselves, it's comforting."

Clark ponders that for awhile but isn't sure he can believe it yet. The headline of that stupid article keeps popping up in his mind. "I just feel like Bruce has been more distant than usual. I don't know what to do."

"You can talk to him," Martha states matter-of-factly.

Clark just looks at her.

"Segway into the conversation, then. Make him dinner or take him on a nice date. I'm guessing you'll have to drag him out of the house but do it anyway."

"Alright, Ma, I'll try that. Thank you."

Martha smiles gently and pats Clark's hand. "Anytime, sweetheart."

* * *

 

Alfred walks into the living room and raises an eyebrow. "Do be careful to not wear out the floor, Master Kent."

Clark stops dead in his tracks and looks down. He's been pacing. He looks back up at Alfred guiltily. "Sorry..."

Alfred huffs as he pulls out a pitcher of water. "Are you sure you won't need my assistance with anything?"

"I'm positive. You go relax."

Another scoff of laughter at the idea of himself relaxing, and even Clark smiles a little. 

"As much as you can, anyway," Clark adds.

Alfred nods and makes his way back to his own room. "Goodnight, then, Master Kent."

"Goodnight Alfred."

Once Alfred's out of sight and Clark hears the door close, he begins pacing again. It's been months since Clark has surprised Bruce like this. Maybe that's the only thing that's wrong: their relationship has gotten stale and just needs more spontaneity added to it.

He hopes so, at least.

It's another ten agonizing minutes before the front door is unlocked and opened. Clark stands beside the table that has Bruce's favorite food resting on it.

Bruce pauses when he gets through the door. This is the first time they've spoken since the fallout two days ago.

"Hi," Clark simply says, giving a genuine smile.

"Hi," Bruce replies hesitantly. He hangs up his coat and shuts the door before slowly making his way over to Clark. "What's this?"

Clark shrugs. "I just figured I'd surprise you, that's all."

Bruce eyes the food. "Did you...?"

"I cooked, yes."

Bruce prefers Clark's cooking of this meal to Alfred's, and the butler was only too pleased about it. 

There's an awkward pause and it's long enough to make Clark sigh in defeat. He shakes his head and moves to clear the table. "If you're too tired or busy, I get it. I just thought..." He stops when he feels a hand on his arm. He turns to look at Bruce and is surprised to see him giving a slightly timid smile.

"It looks great. Can I just wash up first?"

Clark feels like he's able to breathe again and he nods, smiling in return. "Of course."

Okay, it's the little victories. Clark gives himself a mental pat on the back for hanging in there. However, when Bruce gets back and they begin to eat, another awkward tension forms in the room.

Halfway through the meal, Bruce sighs and sets his fork down. "Clark, about the other night..."

Not this. "It's fine," Clark quickly interjects.

Bruce's expression darkens. "No, it's not 'fine.'"

It's almost funny that a man who can't get sick (unless kryptonite is involved) can feel his stomach begin to reject food during times of distress. Is Bruce really going to bring this up now? Clark doesn't need the chiding again.

"I get it, Bruce," Clark says, putting his own fork down on his plate. "I screwed up. It won't happen again."

The darkness in Bruce's expression lightens up and softens slightly. "I wasn't talking about that, specifically. I was going to apologize."

Clark blinks. "Oh."

Another sigh. "I was scared. For you and for the team. ...But mostly for you. That trap was going to kill you. Slowly. Even if the rest of us had died first, I never want you to have to witness something like that."

Well, it's no "I want you to stay alive because I love you," but Clark can live with it.

"I appreciate the clarity," Clark says sincerely. 

Bruce nods and takes a moment before resuming his meal. Clark wants to press for more, but he doesn't. Bruce has apologized, and that's enough; that's more than Clark could ask for.

"You should really thank Diana," Bruce says off-handedly.

"What?"

"If it hadn't been for her pointing out what I said right away, I might not have realized it for weeks."

That's understandable because Clark knows how dense Bruce can be when it comes to his own feelings and the feelings of others. What Clark doesn't really understand, though, is what Diana has to do with this. 

"I'll be sure to thank her next time I see her," Clark mumbles. He remembers a recent event where Bruce Wayne and Diana Prince were in attendance. Clark Kent was there to report on the event and get quotes, but Clark was watching how Miss Prince and Mister Wayne were being spoken to.

Like they were a couple.

And Clark wouldn't lie: Bruce and Diana made a handsome couple. Aesthetically pleasing American royalty.

The comments on the article Clark had read race through his mind as he tries to stomach another bite of food:  _"Nooo! Bruce and Diana forever!" "I'm so mad. I don't care if Bruce is bi, but he_ has  _to end up with Diana! OTP."_

Clark feels his stomach churn and he sets his fork down with a rather loud clang.

"Clark?"

Clark can't look at Bruce right now. "Sorry, I just... I'm not feeling well."

Bruce looks skeptical. "Again? We can run some tests after dinner–"

"No, I'll be okay." Clark shouldn't leave. He shouldn't, he shouldn't...

But he really wants to. He doesn't know how he's going to sit here and act like he isn't falling apart. It won't be long before Bruce sees it, anyway.

"Clark, talk to me." Bruce's tone is understanding.

Clark scoffs slightly. That's rich, coming from Bruce. "There's nothing to talk about." Great. Now he sounds like Bruce.

The movement is in the corner of Clark's eye, but he catches it nonetheless: the way Bruce's hand moves towards his pants pocket. A quick x-ray shows a lead-lined box.

"Clark, there's something I've been–"

Clark has had enough. He stands up. "Unbelievable." Before Bruce can stop him, he's out the door.

Bruce, however, has no idea that Clark noticed the box.

* * *

 

Clark stays at Lois's apartment that night, and after ignoring Bruce's texts, he decides to stay another two nights. It's kind of awkward meeting Lois's new boyfriend, and Clark tries to explain the situation. The guy seems to be okay with it, but one night Lois comes home and closes the door with a resolved sigh.

"Everything okay?" Clark asks, sitting up on the couch and putting a book down on the coffee table. 

Lois's smile is as tired as her eyes. "We broke up. But he was insecure, anyway, and I don't need that in my life."

"Lois, this is my fault. I'm so sorry-"

"This isn't your fault, Clark. You explained why you were staying here and Dave seemed fine with it for the first half of the night."

"And the second half?" Clark asks hesitantly. 

Lois puts her purse on one of the stools at the counter before she sits down next to Clark with another sigh. "He said that you and I might be tempted by old feelings again, so he asked if we could take a break until you stop staying here. I don't want someone who has such little faith in me, so I broke up with him for good."

Clark used to have a lot of faith in Lois; he still does, really. "Do you think he's right?"

Lois tilts her head and frowns in confusion. "About what? Oh, about being tempted? No, of course not!"

Clark remains silent and Lois's expression soon changes.

"Clark, do you think he's right?"

Clark shakes his head. "Not about us, no..."

"Then who?"

Clark stares at the book he'd been trying to get through before Lois came home. "When I was...gone- Bruce and Diana had to have spent a lot of time together, Lo."

"So?" Lois isn't impressed.

"So something might have happened! Or there might still be something there. I mean, look at her, Lois! The woman is a literal goddess, with the looks, brains, and strength to prove it. And I'm just-"

"Clark Kent, the reporter? We've been over this-"

"An alien who rushes in to help people without thinking, sometimes. An extraterrestrial who still scares everyone. ...A threat that Batman tried to eliminate."

There is such a long span of contemplative silence that Clark startles when Lois places her hand on his. He looks at her and feels a rush of warmth at the softness of her gaze.

"He brought you back, Clark."

"So the world could have Superman. So he could stop feeling so guilty-"

" _No._ "

Clark blinks at the harshness of Lois's voice.

"Maybe he brought you back for those reasons, but he also loved you. When you were gone, he learned all he could about who you were, and I could see something tragic. He was falling in love with a dead man. So I'm sure that the second he knew that there was a chance to bring you back, there was an underlying selfish reason."

That strangely makes Clark feel better, but only slightly.

"Diana might as well be an alien. Themyscira is far different from our world."

Clark frowns. "You sound like you're speaking from experience."

A faint blush spreads across Lois's cheeks and she pulls her hand away and shifts awkwardly on the couch. "Not actual experience, but... Diana has told me a lot about it."

Clark shakes his head. "Well, no matter what world she's from, she's still a woman. And from what I understand, Bruce has only ever dated women."

"So have you."

Clark talks right over Lois, lost in his anxiety over his whole relationship with Bruce. "He probably misses it. There is a difference, Lois, and I wouldn't blame Bruce for being attracted to Diana."

"Do  _you_ miss it?" Lois asks helpfully, and Clark narrows his eyes when she smirks. "Are  _you_ attracted to Diana?"

"What?! No! I mean, maybe under different circumstances, but I don't think of her like that."

"I'm sure Bruce doesn't, either."

"You and my mother sound so certain- like you both know Bruce so well-"

"We did watch him change after your death."

That stops Clark's thoughts instantly. Lois takes her hand in his and gives it a gentle squeeze. "Does he know where you are right now? He can't be feeling very comfortable knowing that you're staying at my place."

Clark winces. "Actually, he... he doesn't know where I'm staying, and I don't know if I should tell him. Actually, I don't think I will tell him. What does he care? He hasn't once tried to ask me where I am."

"You're obviously too distressed to think clearly right now, so I'm going to ignore your complete ignorance of the obvious." Lois pats Clark's knee and walks away, leaving Clark feeling even more at a loss. 

 


	4. Figures

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Figures" by Jesse Reyez is basically the theme song for this fic. 
> 
> Thank you to everyone who has been reading, leaving kudos, and commenting! I really appreciate it.<3 I wanted to get another chapter up before I have to buckle down for finals. 
> 
> Also, my other fic "Everybody wants to be a cat" will be finished in the next three weeks! I haven't abandoned it.<3
> 
> Enjoy!

Five days. It's been five days since Clark's been gone and he still hasn't heard from Bruce. It stings, if Clark is being honest. After so much time spent together (and  _two years_ of a serious relationship), it makes Clark wonder why Bruce isn't showing any sign of caring. 

It's not until the ninth day of no contact that Clark decides to pack up his things and tell Lois that he's going to stay at the farm for a few days.

"Are you sure? I don't mind, Clark–"

"I know, Lois, but I've taken up more than enough of your time. I appreciate it."

She gives him a small smile and wordlessly helps him finish packing.

* * *

Before he goes to the farm, he has to stop by the lakehouse to get more of his clothes. He breathes an uncertain sigh when he sees that the bedroom is devoid of anyone; he just wants to grab his things and get out, but Bruce or Alfred could show up any moment–they're random like that.

But it's Diana's voice that filters in through the closed door, and Clark hadn't even been trying to listen this time; hadn't even been tempted to. After what happened last time, he doesn't need more heartache. So, instead of listening to what Diana is saying, Clark quickly grabs some more clothes out of the closet (tries to ignore the lingering smell of Bruce's cologne) and leaves.

The burning nausea in his stomach refuses to go away despite the fresh air he's flying through.

* * *

After Clark has unpacked and taken a shower, he searches through his old clothes for something to wash. He needs to get his mind off of things, so he figures he'll do the laundry. Something small and hard brushes against the side of his hand and he frowns. He moves a shirt out of the way and a small black dot drops out from underneath the collar. He blinks and stares at it for a minute while his brain processes what just happened.

He picks it up and examines it, ready to crush it into dust if it's a tracker.

It is a tracker, but a small, almost imperceptible bat symbol makes Clark pause.

A fond smile appears on his lips and he laughs in exasperation.  _That's_ why Bruce never called to check in. That little...

Clark shakes his head and checks the time on his watch. Ma won't be home for another few hours, so he has plenty of time to pay Bruce a visit. He makes sure to tidy up and throws the clothes in the laundry first before he cradles the tracker in his fist and flies to the lakehouse.

Bruce is downstairs in the cave and he doesn't even blink when Clark gently whooshes in. 

Clark walks up behind Bruce and holds back a frown when the other man turns around. Bruce's eyes are tired (more than usual) and despondent... For a split second Clark wonders if a particular case has gone horribly wrong, but Bruce negates that worry when he says, "You're back."

His tone is uncertain and hesitant like he's waiting for Clark to say "not for long." But Clark simply shakes his head and holds out his hand, showing the tracker to Bruce. He hears Bruce's heartbeat falter at being discovered, but Clark isn't sure why Bruce is surprised. 

"Is this why you haven't called to check in?"

Bruce swallows and only looks up at Clark with his eyes. "You're angry that I tracked you." It sounds more like a question.

Clark shakes his head again and kneels down in front of Bruce so they're at eye-level. "No," he says softly, and a small, amused smile forms on his lips. "I should have known. Still, it would have been nice to have gotten a quick text or phone call asking if I was okay."

Bruce stops holding his breath and looks down at the tracker, taking it from Clark's palm. "I didn't think you'd want to hear from me."

Clark huffs out a laugh. "Bruce..." And he wraps his arms around the man. Bruce is still slightly awkward with unexpected hugs that aren't initiating anything more intimate, but he slowly returns the gesture and turns his face into Clark's neck. Clark feels Bruce's sigh of relief against his pulse. 

"I'm terrible at this," Bruce mutters, and Clark laughs again.

"You're getting better, though; you're admitting it this time, at least," he replies with a small smirk and glinting eyes.

Bruce hums and his gaze falls to Clark's lips. Clark can see the gears turning in Bruce's mind, knows that the stubborn man wants to say something, but apparently, Bruce doesn't think it's important enough because he simply presses his lips against Clark's.

Clark has missed this. He instinctively pulls Bruce closer to him, but he is so lost in the moment that he loses his balance and the two of them end up toppling to the floor. Bruce's weight on top of him is sure and steady, but it soon falls apart as they look at each other and dissolve into laughter. 

"I missed you," Clark confesses, grinning brightly.

Bruce's own smile is one of the rare ones that reach his eyes, but the longer he looks at Clark, the more it starts to falter into uncertainty.

Clark's grin disappears and he takes in a breath. "Bruce? What's wrong?"

Bruce is shaken out of whatever daze he was in and he blinks. "What? Oh, nothing." He's smiling again, and it's genuine, but it's almost imperceptible. "I was just thinking..."

"About what?"

There's a heavy pause. "About whether or not this is a good moment to ask you something. I don't want to ruin it, though."

Clark gives Bruce a sidelong glance but doesn't make a move to get away.

"But I don't have it with me..." Bruce shakes his head at himself and rests his forehead on Clark's chest. "I'm horrible at this kind of thing."

Clark has no idea what Bruce is talking about, but as soon as he gets up the nerve to ask what's going on, Bruce is standing and walking over to the vault at the far end of the cave.

A bitter chill spikes into Clark's heart and his gaze hardens. "You could just ask me outright, you know." His tone is cold and biting.

Bruce stops halfway to his destination and turns to look at Clark. He has the audacity to look innocently confused. "I didn't think–"

"No, you didn't. I need to get back to the farmhouse. Here's your tracker." He tosses it on the desk and flies off, tuning out Bruce's voice and his heartbeat.

 

 

 


	5. Surprises

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any typos and mistakes are mine.

 

Lois has been silent for their whole lunch, staring ahead at the city beyond them from the rooftop of the Planet building. This usually doesn't bother Clark, but he can sense that her silence isn't coming from a place of contentment.

"Clark, we need to talk," she says, finally looking over at him.

Clark loses his appetite and puts his sandwich down with a sigh.

Lois chuckles and pats his hand reassuringly. "It's nothing bad. I mean, I don't think you'll be bothered by it, but it's just..."

"Yes?"

"She wanted to tell you since you're teammates, but I convinced her that it would be better if you heard it from me, considering we used to be together."

Clark's brow furrows in mild confusion. The only "her" on the team is Diana. "Is everything alright?"

"Yeah! More than alright... We're seeing each other."

Clark doesn't understand why Lois is acting so shy. "I've known that, Lo." His tone is gentle. "I've heard from both you and Diana that you're becoming good friends."

Lois laughs and shakes her head fondly. "Best friends, Clark. More than that..."

Clark is still looking at her with a bewildered expression, and Lois laughs again.

"You and your innocent mind. We're dating, Clark."

Oh.

_Oh._

Clark blinks, unsure of what to do with this new information. He runs the words through his memory and waits to see how they make him feel. Maybe a couple of years ago he would have been bothered by it, (even though he had no claim on Lois, it took him awhile before he wanted to see her happy with someone other than him) but now it's kind of exciting. He felt a bit closer to Diana now, oddly enough.

Lois frowns. "You're bothered by it."

"No!" Clark hurries to reassure Lois and wipe away the worried wrinkle between her eyebrows. He grins and pulls her into a hug. "I'm really happy for you, Lois! This is great! For both you and Diana. I just didn't think you were–"

"Yeah, well, neither did I," Lois admits with a laugh. They pull out of the hug but stay close together. Lois brushes a strand of hair away from her face and behind her ear. "I mean, there were moments in my life where I considered it and figured that as long as the person made me happy, it didn't matter. But then my work became my sole focus, and then I met you."

They smile, the memories of their time together had never turned bitter.

"And then after you died, Diana came to see me. I didn't want to talk to her much at first because her grief was too similar to mine. But after a while, I began to open up, and we got to know each other more. Nothing major happened until after you and I broke up."

"Lois, why didn't you tell me sooner?"

Lois shrugs. "I didn't tell anyone. I can't explain it; it was just something that was all mine, you know? Just something special between me and Diana."

"I understand that." Clark had felt the same way when he and Bruce first started getting serious.

"Besides, neither of us thought it was going to last. But after the last time the League was together, I had to watch as Diana almost–"

Clark winces. He'd been the reason why Diana had almost died. The guilt that starts rising in his chest threatens to eat him alive. That would have been the second time Clark had broken Lois's heart; she would have had to go through the loss of a lover twice. 

"I'm sorry, Lois. You don't deserve to have that happen twice."

Lois looks puzzled and she searches his eyes for an answer. "Oh! Oh, Clark, no, it wasn't your fault. Diana told me what happened. I don't blame you. Besides, I know that the risk of death comes with the job description." She smiles, slightly ruefully. 

"Yours, too, Miss Reporter," Clark replies with a small smile.

"Diana only reminded me of that once, and I put a stop to it." Lois points her finger and pokes Clark's chest playfully.

Clark laughs. "You two are a good match."

"I have to say, it is nice having someone understand just how independent I can be."

Another small reminder of why he and Lois are better off as good friends, and it still brings relief to Clark. He'd felt guilty for a long time after their breakup despite Lois's assurance that it was all for the best; at least the breakup had been mutual. But maybe his worries were just more proof that Lois was better off without Clark constantly looking at her as something that needed to be protected. He's always known that Lois can take care of herself, but she's told him more than once that "that look" irritates her. 

"Where'd you run off to, Smallville?" Lois asks teasingly, bringing Clark's focus back to the present. 

He smiles again. "Just thinking about how things are working out great for you."

Lois's smile turns uncertain and she nudges him. "You, too!" When Clark's smile fades and he looks away, Lois's expression shows her concern. 

"Clark?"

"I'm still staying in Kansas," he admits, looking out at the city.

"Is this about the tracking device Bruce put under your shirt collar and in your suitcase?"

"No. Wait– My suitcase, too? How did you–"

"Investigative reporter," Lois proudly reminds him.

"It's not about the trackers. Did Diana tell you what happened after the last mission went south?"

Lois shakes her head. "She just looked upset but when I asked her about it, she said that it wasn't her place to share it."

Bless Diana. "Bruce told me something..." He shakes his head in regret when he remembers, "but he apologized for it."

"So you're angry because he apologized?" Lois raises an eyebrow.

"No, of course not. There's something else. The last few times we've talked, he starts to pull something out of his pocket. I know what it is."

"What is it?"

"Kryptonite."

Lois blinks. "No, that can't... Clark."

"What?"

She gently grasps his chin and makes him face her. "Are you sure it's kryptonite?"

"Yes."

"Have you seen it?"

Clark pauses. "Not exactly. It's hidden. The box is lined with lead."

" He really doesn't want to talk about this right now. "This is your moment, anyway, so let's not focus on me. Everything will be fine." He gives her a reassuring smile.

Lois eyes him and he worries that she won't let it go, but she soon relents. "Alright, we'll stop talking about it for  _now_ _._ But my girlfriend works with the two of you, so if you start giving her headaches, you're going to have to deal with me."

Clark laughs. "Yes, ma'am."

* * *

Lois goes home early and doesn't say why, but Clark has a feeling it has to do with Diana. He smiles knowingly at her and laughs when she rolls her eyes dramatically right before the elevator doors close.

As for Clark, going home early doesn't seem to be an option. He has an article idea that he needs to work on (a.k.a. he needs to try and find a way to convince Perry that it's good enough to spend paid time on) and his Ma had called earlier to tell him that she was going to dinner with a few friends. She'd asked if that was alright, and he'd laughed, reassuring her that she didn't need to stay home on his behalf.

And Clark doesn't mind having time to himself, but it's different when things between him and Bruce are tense.

At least he has some work to focus on. After two hours he hears an emergency and flies off to help.

A small fire had started in a village in Mexico, but he was able to stop it from spreading too far. Little damage had been done, and once the firefights told him that there weren't any casualties, Superman had nodded and flown away.

He must have been flying on autopilot because the next thing he knows, he's looking down at Gotham City. He stops and hovers, thinking about whether or not he should talk to Bruce. What he should actually do is fly back to the Planet, grab his things, and head back to the farm. Yes, that's a good enough excuse to prolong another emotionally charged conversation. 

He takes off towards Metropolis and doesn't look back.

Until he does.

Feeding Clark's suspicions once again that Bruce must be a mind reader, he gets a text from the man as soon as he sets his bag down in his room.

_B: How are you?_

Clark stares at the screen and purposely waits two minutes before replying.

_C: Fine._

_C: You?_

There's an answer almost instantly, and Clark's a little taken aback.

_B: I miss you._

Clark sighs and drops his phone on the bed. Just as he starts to take off his jacket (he'd changed back into Clark Kent's clothing before entering the Planet, of course), his phone vibrates again.

_B: Can we talk?_

_C: Sure._

_B: Now?_

_B: At the house. Not over the phone._

Clark's heart sinks, what little hope he had is once again dashed. Bruce probably wants to talk about League-related business. But it's a start.

_C: Sure. Be right there._

He puts the suit back on.

* * *

 

It feels odd to enter through the cave instead of the front door like he usually does. It's an odd sort of panging hurt that he does his best to ignore.

He tries to put it out of his mind and looks around. There's no sign of Bruce.

"Bruce?" He calls but doesn't get an answer. 

Before he lets himself worry, he listens for Bruce's heartbeat. It's strong and sturdy, and the sound is coming from upstairs. Clark checks his watch. It's only 8:00. Maybe it's an early night for the Bat.

Clark feels a little silly walking into the house with his Superman suit on, but any out-of-place feeling is blown away when he's greeted with a familiar face in the living room.

"Lois?" He asks, his surprise obvious in his voice.

"Clark," Lois says, giving him a small smile.

"What are you doing here?" He's staring at her in disbelief and almost doesn't see Bruce standing next to her, looking slightly apprehensive. 

"I was just leaving," Lois replies. Her tone is a little threatening but it's directed at Bruce. When she looks back at Clark, she gives him a small smile. "See you tomorrow."

"Bye," Clark says helplessly. The door shuts and Clark waits until he hears a car start before he asks Bruce, "What was that about?"

Bruce looks just as confused as Clark, and he shrugs. "No idea. But I guess Lois and Diana are dating now."

"Yeah, she told me earlier today."

"Diana?"

"Lois."

"Right."

They stand there awkwardly, and Clark remembers that he's still wearing his Superman suit when Bruce gestures to it. He tries to appear nonchalant, but Clark can see the question in those calculating brown eyes.

"I thought it was League business," Clark says.

Bruce's posture softens and his face looks more relaxed. "No, it's not."

"Then...?"

"It's about us."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much to all of the readers for bearing with me! I can't decide if I want to make this story longer or finish it up in the next few chapters. I have so many ideas for this pairing but no idea how to compile them all together. I might make one-shots, but we'll see.


	6. I won't give up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trying to get the characterizations right while also trying to keep the story from being too angsty is hard work. I hope it's paying off. Thank you to everyone who has commented and left kudos so far! I love seeing them. <3

_"It's about us."_

The words repeat in Clark's mind as clearly as Bruce had said them two seconds earlier. He feels like he's just swallowed a cold stone and he involuntarily holds his breath.

"What about us?" He asks hesitantly.

Bruce studies him for a long moment, and Clark knows that he's trying to read him. But he wishes that Bruce would just spit it out already.

There's a sigh from Bruce before his shoulders relax and he looks at Clark with a slightly desperate expression. "Whatever's going on between us, I don't want it to continue. I don't know what more I've done wrong, but I'm sure I've done something. I wish you would just talk to me, Clark."

Clark's gaze remains steady and he watches as Bruce's expression shifts into one of pure defeat. What exactly is Bruce getting at? 

"Or don't talk to me. Look, I get it if you're too angry to talk but can you just tell me if we're through or not?"

Clark blinks and he's pulled completely into the reality of the situation. Bruce looks lost, like the next thing Clark says could completely break him. Clark doesn't want that kind of power. He steps a bit closer to Bruce and reaches out, waiting for Bruce to reciprocate––if he feels comfortable enough to do so.

"Of course we're not through," Clark says softly.

Bruce doesn't look convinced, but he steps forward and grasps Clark's elbow. "Just tell me what I've done, or what I can start doing to make things better."

It's not a conversation that Clark wants to have right now, and Bruce looks so drained that Clark knows he hasn't been sleeping well. He shouldn't do this, but he needs to be sure, so he uses his x-ray vision to check for a small, lead-lined box in Bruce's pockets. He doesn't see one. In fact, he doesn't see any sign of it anywhere in the room. Maybe Bruce had figured it out but was just waiting for Clark to say something about it. 

He gives Bruce a small smile and wraps his arms around him. "Thank you."

"For what?" Bruce is obviously confused but he returns the hug.

"For putting it away."

Bruce tenses for a split second before he lets out a resigned sigh. "So we're okay then?"

Clark pulls away just enough to press his lips against Bruce's. He smiles gently and looks at Bruce. "What do you think?"

Bruce gives Clark a knowing smile and his eyes are starting to light up. He kisses Clark firmly and sincerely, but Clark feels the way the kiss falters a few seconds later. He looks at Bruce with concerned confusion.

"Really, though," Bruce says, his expression serious, "what's wrong?"

Clark shakes his head. "It's not important anymore. I can tell that you're sorry, and I don't want to keep talking about it."

Bruce eyes Clark for a long moment and there's a tension in the air. Clark holds his breath and waits for Bruce to turn him away, but that never happens.

Instead, Bruce merely nods. "Okay." 

Clark can practically see how Bruce's curiosity is eating him up inside, and he feels bad, but it's for the best that the topic is never mentioned again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know why, but I'm not super happy about this work. I see everything play out in my head but then can't seem to make it work when I write it all down. I hope everyone is pretty in-character. 
> 
> Also, I hate this chapter. It's nothing like I wanted it to be, but I've forgotten the good idea that I'd had.


	7. I reach out from the inside.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A few days after they make up, Bruce and Clark have a little fun.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title from "In Your Eyes" by Peter Gabriel. It is such a beautiful song, and really when you think of Superbat, how is this /not/ Bruce's song to Clark?
> 
> Anyway, thank you to everyone who commented their support and left kudos! You have really helped me keep going with this story, and I can't ever describe just how much it means to me.<3
> 
> Also please don't hate me for cutting the heat so suddenly. ._. I'm not good with writing smut. So heh... BUT this happened for plot reasons, anyway, so I have a legitimate excuse. And just a disclaimer: Clark's insecurities are not gone for good, so please don't think that I was in any way trying to make it seem like sex made everything better. I just figured my readers deserved a little fluff before things got angsty again.

Clark loves when it's cold outside but warm inside. He doesn't get affected by temperatures the way humans do, but he can still experience the sensations.

And that's kind of what Bruce is like, isn't he? Cold on the outside, but inside there's a burning fire that consumes everything it touches. 

His lips curl up, amused by his own thoughts, and Bruce breaks the kiss.

"What?" He asks huskily.

"Nothing, just... I just thought of something poetic, that's all."

"Am I so boring that you start thinking of poetry?" Bruce sounds amused but Clark can see the slight uncertainty in his expression.

"Of course not. Always so negative," Clark says with a fond smile. He cups Bruce's cheek and kisses his forehead. "You inspire my poetic thoughts."

Bruce rolls his eyes at the corny statement and Clark snorts out a laugh.

"It's cheesy but it's true!" He defends.

Bruce silences him with a deep kiss and presses him further down into the mattress. There's a light snowfall tonight, and it's somehow a perfect contrast to how heated the room is getting. They've been heavily kissing like this for ten minutes, both content to continue as though they have an unlimited amount of time. Clark's heart feels like it did the first time he found out he could fly. It's soaring. He hasn't felt like this in months. While he'd known that it was normal for the passion in a relationship to simmer at times instead of boil, he had still missed this. 

The way Bruce is kissing him right now, so hungrily with soft growls, is causing the heat in Clark's lower abdomen to flare up into his chest. He's vaguely aware of the soft moan that escapes his mouth as he tightens his grip on Bruce's arms and arches up against him.

"Bruce, please," he whispers into the kiss. He's ready for more. So ready, and–

There's a sigh and then the warmth of Bruce's mouth is suddenly gone. Clark blinks dumbly and looks at Bruce in the low lighting. His gaze is hungry, but Clark can tell that something is off.

"What's wrong?" He asks, feeling his heart starting to sink.

Bruce sighs, letting his eyelids fall shut as he buries his face in the crook of Clark's neck, as though he's too ashamed to look at him.

"I'm sorry," he mutters against Clark's skin. "I'm trying, but I can't-" He cuts himself off and lets the rest of the sentence hang in the air.

Can't what?

Oh.

Clark huffs softly in relief and runs his fingers through Bruce's hair. "That's it? It's okay."

"No, it's not."

"Bruce–"

"I don't know what's wrong." Bruce pulls away and sits up, running a hand through his hair in frustration. "I'm into it, but I just–"

"Bruce, it's alright." Clark's tone is gentle and patient.

Bruce's expression falters and he keeps his eyes off of Clark. "You keep saying that but I don't agree with you. I just don't understand it. I trained today, that should have helped."

"It's been awhile, maybe you're-"

"Out of practice?" Bruce looks at Clark ruefully. 

Clark shows the barest hint of amusement before schooling his expression. "No, not out of practice." Maybe Bruce is just tired.

"You have to be upset, Clark." Bruce sounds defeated.

"I mean I'm a little disappointed, but I'm also okay with just kissing. That's what we did the first time, remember? You didn't want to rush things." He smirks at Bruce and grins when Bruce smirks back.

"I was surprised at how eager you were, Kansas," Bruce shoots back.

Clark laughs. "Can you blame me?"

"Yeah, all these scars are so sexy." His tone is sarcastic and playful, but Clark is always eager to reassure Bruce because he knows the scars can still be a sore topic.

"They are extremely sexy," Clark says lowly, prowling over to Bruce and kissing the bullet hole scar on his pectoral. He runs his hands across the map of scars on Bruce's back and pulls him closer, causing Bruce to let out a regretful groan.

"Clark, stop torturing me."

"I can't help it." Clark kisses another scar on Bruce's shoulder.

"I'm not going to just sit here and have all the fun."

Bruce almost always has to one-up Clark, but Clark isn't complaining as Bruce licks his mouth open with pure determination. 

"Let's see if this will help," Bruce mumbles, and that's all the warning Clark gets before he's flipped over onto his stomach with Bruce's hand between his shoulder blades. Ah, sparring might actually help. A little wrestling on the bed is always fun. Clark grins mischievously as he maneuvers his body, and it's only a few seconds until he hears Bruce gasp as he's being turned over. 

Clark is grinning above him, loving the look on Bruce's face.

* * *

 

The sparring doesn't help, either, but Bruce had found plenty of ways to satisfy Clark last night. Clark felt bad that he couldn't return the favor, but he knew that saying something about it would only make Bruce self-conscious again, so he didn't mention it.

Last night helped push away Clark's insecurities because he could see that he's still attractive to Bruce. The arousal in Bruce's eyes never left, even though he hadn't been able to prove it in other ways.

Warm rays of sunlight brush across Clark's face and he breathes in deeply, opening his eyes to find that the snow hadn't stuck. Well, as long as the sun's shining brightly, Clark's not bothered.

There's a warm, solid presence against his back and a protective arm across his chest, and he smiles. He turns over in Bruce's arms and kisses his nose. Bruce's eyelashes flutter open in that way only unique to Bruce, and Clark has to refrain from leaning over and giving butterfly kisses.

"Good morning," he says instead.

Bruce winces, but he's hiding a smile behind his arm. "What are you so happy about?"

Clark tenderly presses his lips to Bruce's. "When was the last time we woke up together like this?"

Bruce thinks about it and frowns. "It's been awhile, I know that much."

"Mhm. So that's why I'm happy, Mr. Grumpy–"

"Don't say it-"

"-Wings."

An exaggerated, long-suffering sigh flows out of Bruce's mouth as he turns around and looks at the clock. Clark merely grins and begins placing kisses on Bruce's upper back. 

"It's seven in the morning," Bruce complains.

"So?"

"So I'm going back to sleep. I don't have anywhere to be today."

"You would rather sleep than be with me?" Clark's tone is playful.

"I would rather sleep with you," Bruce says, matter-of-factly.

Clark quirks an eyebrow and smirks.

"I mean that literally," Bruce corrects, wrapping his arms around Clark. "As in sleeping side by side."

Bruce doesn't play around when it comes to sleeping. It's one of his quirks that Clark simultaneously loves and hates. 

"No morning fun, huh? Your age is showing." Clark laughs when he feels a pillow hit the back of his head. "You weren't even trying!"

"Sleep," Bruce mutters, burying his face against Clark's arm.

"Can I kiss you until I fall asleep?"

A long pause.

"Fine. Just don't expect me to reciprocate. I'm too tired, and I don't want my performance to be underwhelming."

"Hah, yeah, okay." Clark laughs and starts kissing down from Bruce's cheek to his neck. He can feel the goosebumps forming on Bruce's skin; he secretly loves when Clark does this, and Clark knows it. They both benefit from this. It isn't long until Bruce is sound asleep, but Clark continues planting kisses on him, anyway.

"I love you," he murmurs against Bruce's temple. 


	8. Lost

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just can't write angsty cliffhangers, lately. ;__; I have to have them resolve their issues. Good news for the readers, I guess. xD

Over the next two weeks, things slowly start to return to normal. Clark still has brief moments where he's afraid that Bruce is getting tired of him, but thankfully he has a major article he's working on, so he doesn't have time to dwell on his fear.

A new case has the Batman busier than usual, and Clark doesn't think twice about the fact that he and Bruce are hardly ever home at the same time; he's used to it, and they're both independent enough to not be starved for each other. 

Apparently, however, lack of intimacy for that long can cause tempers to clash. Again.

Clark pads down to the cave when he hears Bruce finally get back.

"Bruce."

"Hm?" Bruce isn't looking at him as he takes off the top layer of his armor.

"It's almost five in the morning." Clark watches for any sign of pain. There are extensive bruises on Bruce's torso and legs, but Clark can't know just how bad they are if Bruce hides the pain expertly.

"So?" Bruce snaps and briefly glances over at Clark. 

Ah, there's the pain. Clark makes his way over to Bruce but stops when Bruce moves away from him. That was a move that Clark hasn't seen since they first started a relationship. It had taken months before Bruce trusted Clark enough to let him see any injuries that he had sustained; but after that, Clark helping out with injuries became as natural a routine as the two of them sleeping in the same bed at night.

Clark hasn't answered Bruce's question, he realizes belatedly. He'd been too gobsmacked to stay in reality. Bruce doesn't look like he's waiting for an answer, though; he's already putting a report into the computer.

"I was just worried about you," Clark says gently. 

"You know that I'm-"

"Perfectly capable of taking care of yourself. I know. But I still get concerned when you come home later than usual."

Bruce scoffs. "I've gotten home later than this. But that was before we ever knew each other. And once we started living together, well..." He shrugs a shoulder half-heartedly and finishes up the last few sentences in his report.

"I know you didn't stop coming home late for my benefit," Clark snarks.

"I stopped because I knew you'd only get concerned and then possibly lecture me." Bruce's tone is defensive and he saves the report with a firm click of the mouse.

Clark narrows his eyes and crosses his arms in front of his chest. While he stares Bruce down, the other man continues to ignore him while he discards more of his armor. It's early in the morning and Clark doesn't want to keep Bruce from getting some sleep, so he eventually bites his tongue and relents. He uncrosses his arms and sighs softly; he doesn't want to fight. It isn't worth it.

A previous remark from Alfred flits through his brain and causes Clark to chuckle. Bruce raises a skeptical eyebrow and looks at him. 

"What's so funny?" He asks.

Clark meets his gaze and all frustration is gone from his body. "I think Alfred was right."

Bruce's expression turns to bewilderment, so Clark elaborates.

"Awhile back when we were arguing, Alfred made a comment about us fighting like an old married couple. He's right, we just did it again."

For a minute Clark worries that Bruce isn't going to find it very humorous, but then the corner of his mouth is twitching up in a smirk and he's inching closer to Clark.

"I guess we did."

Clark grins. "Didn't mean to henpeck you."

Bruce's smirk grows. "I think you meant to say 'nag.'"

Clark shrugs. "Same difference." He lightly traces a finger over Bruce's gloveless wrist, dropping his gaze for a moment before looking back up at Bruce through his eyelashes. It's a bit of a show, but it's working––Bruce's softening eyes make it obvious.

"I just care about you," Clark mutters.

The tension in Bruce's shoulders eases as he sighs. "I know."

"I don't like it when you're miserable. When you're miserable, I'm miserable."

Bruce actually laughs out loud and Clark's grin is blinding.

"Fair enough," Bruce says, pulling Clark in for a hug. 

Clark is surprised at the rare initiation of just a hug, but his excitement overlaps the surprise and he's eagerly returning the gesture.

They stand there a moment before Clark tries for a little more. He forms a trail of light kisses from Bruce's neck and up to his ear before biting down gently. He can feel the goosebumps form on the parts of Bruce's skin that he's touching, and he smirks proudly, feeling quite accomplished.

However, Bruce is soon pulling away and looking at Clark despondently. "Clark..."

Clark blinks and remembers that he is supposed to be letting Bruce sleep. He smiles guiltily but remains where he is, keeping Bruce in his embrace.

"I'll give you a reward if you go to sleep. Or I can help you get to sleep," he quips suggestively.

Bruce's amused smile flashes and then immediately disappears––it was more of a flit, really. Clark loosens his grip and takes one step back.

"I'd love that, Clark, but you won't get very far." Bruce's tone is rueful.

"Again?" Clark blurts it out, not even thinking, and instantly regrets it. "I mean, okay, but... Earlier today you said that we could try again tonight–-"

"Technically I said that yesterday, but Clark, I can't. You have to understand that I'm not doing this on purpose." Bruce's eyes are pleading but Clark can't get past his own gnawing fear that he's the problem.

Bruce just doesn't know how to tell him that he's bored.

"Okay," Clark yields, the light in his eyes dimming and his tone dejected. He averts his gaze.

Bruce is tense, Clark can sense it. When he finally works up the nerve to look at Bruce again, he can add guilt to the mix of insecurity and dull acceptance that he's already feeling.

"Clark." Bruce sounds lost as he searches Clark's gaze. "I'm sorry-"

"No," Clark is quick to interrupt, grabbing Bruce's face in his hands. "You don't have to be sorry. I just..." He can't leave poor Bruce in the dark, no matter how stupid Clark is feeling. "I don't know what I can do to make things better. I'm sorry I'm not that attractive to you anymore, or that I'm boring-"

"Stop." Bruce wraps his fingers around Clark's wrists and gently pulls his hands down. He holds them close to his chest (a subconscious gesture) and doesn't let go. His eyes are so fierce and full of conviction that Clark can't look away. "This isn't because I'm bored or because I think you're not attractive anymore. It's just age." He exhales the last word and drops Clark's hands, turning away to pick up his gloves.

"But-"

"You may not think that I'm old, Clark, but I am. And I haven't taken it easy. I've pushed my body beyond its limits too many times to count, and you've seen the evidence of all the breaks and tears I've gotten over the years. That hasn't helped to slow the aging process."

Clark can see that Bruce is falling in a downward spiral, and he wants to stop it.

"Bruce-"

"That's why I was hesitant to start anything serious with you." Bruce turns around to face Clark for a split second before he begins to put the outer pieces of his armor away. He's giving himself something to do so he doesn't have to focus all of his attention on his false feeling of inadequacy. Clark's seen this a dozen times.

"I knew this would happen eventually, and like I've said before, you deserve better, Clark. Not just the sex: better  _everything_. But you wanted something serious, you wanted to 'settle down,' so to speak. Well, this is what happens. Especially when you date a human who ages twice as fast as you."

Clark can see Bruce waiting for a rejection, but Bruce is wrong. Clark walks over to him and takes his hand. "You've heard my rebuttal as many times as I've heard your argument, and it hasn't changed. No matter what you think about me deserving 'better,' I want to be with you. Personally, I think you deserve someone better than me. Someone who isn't such a boy scout. Someone who doesn't rush into a fight without thinking about the consequences."

Bruce's eyes flash at the memory but that's not what Clark wants him to be thinking about right now. He kisses Bruce's cheek and then kisses him gently on the lips.

"It's just my own stupid insecurity. I'll get over it."

"Just know that if for some stupid reason I ever get tired of you, I won't drag you along. But if that ever happens, please make sure I'm in my right mind before leaving."

Clark huffs out a nervous laugh that quickly dies on his lips when he sees Bruce's serious expression.

"You got it," Clark promises. 

That prompts Bruce to pull him in for another kiss that quickly grows more passionate. When Bruce pulls away and mutters something about needing to go to sleep, Clark growls.

"Tease," he mutters.

Bruce laughs as he heads up the stairs and waves without looking back.

 


	9. I've been holding back.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The end of part one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you once again to everyone who has commented, left kudos, and has just been reading and following the story!! Your comments and kudos and support make me so happy!!<33 And they make the time I spend on this fic worth because I know that people other than just me appreciate it.<33
> 
> The next part will be from Bruce's point of view! Yay! I'm excited. And the final part will have everything being tied together in a neat little bow.

Since most villains of the world had stopped their activity after the announcement of the Justice League, all of the heroes were able to cut the meeting down to once every two weeks. Bruce still wanted the meetings to happen frequently, though, because "the villains are probably just scheming. I hate it when they turn quiet." Everyone had agreed, although Barry had called Bruce "a little too" paranoid.

It's at one of these meetings when Barry looks at Bruce and Clark and proceeds to ask, out loud, "Are Mom and Dad talking again?"

"Barry," Bruce warns.

"Is this going to be a recurring thing now?" Clark asks, genuine curiosity mixing with an unamused tone.

"I hope so," Arthur says vehemently.

Bruce glares at him but Clark doesn't really notice. He's too preoccupied with something else...

"I know I don't need to ask who started it." Bruce stares Barry down.

The young man doesn't even flinch. He's getting braver.

"Who all agreed to it?" Clark asks.

Everyone raises their hands, including Diana. When Clark and Bruce look at her with shocked expressions, she shrugs. 

"I've become more 'playful,' recently. What's the harm in it? I'll make sure it doesn't change the dynamic of the team or put us in danger." She adds the last sentence for Bruce's benefit.

Clark wants to ask Diana more questions, but he saves them for another time when more pressing matters aren't of concern.

Bruce, however, is now looking at Victor with an expression that shows only slight exasperation.

"Why did you agree to it?"

Victor shrugs. "I wanted to fit in?"

"You don't get to use that excuse anymore," Bruce quips.

Victor only grins.

"I agreed because it's hilarious," Arthur needlessly mentions as he raises his hand.

"Those can be new code names! Y'know, when even using your superhero names are dangerous." Barry looks to pleased with himself.

"No," Bruce and Diana say at the same time, although Bruce's tone is harsher than Diana's.

Clark blinks in thought and looks over at Barry. "Wait... So who's 'Mom'?"

All of his friends give him deadpan expressions and Diana raises an eyebrow.

It takes a second for Clark to be in on the joke (though everyone else is actually serious) and he blushes when he finally gets it.

"Oh," is all he says. He's not sure how he feels about that, but he makes a mental to note to try and act less "Mom-like"... whatever  _that_ is.

* * *

 

The meeting is over and Clark is following Victor and Barry out of the room when he overhears Diana whispering to Bruce.

"Have you asked him yet?"

"Diana–"

"You know he doesn't listen in on conversations unless it's important."

Clark ignores the guilt he feels and suppresses a wince.

"I locked it away."

"What?" Diana sounds appalled.

"When we made up, he thanked me for putting it away. So the whole thing should have never happened. It's gone now."

"Bruce–"

"Enough, Diana. 

"You know that he needs this. It's for his own good. And yours, too. Neither of you can keep living like this."

"I just can't bring myself to ask him–"

"Clark!" Barry's voice pulls Clark's attention away from that awful conversation.

"What is it, Barry?" He's glad that his voice sounds light despite the rock in his throat.

"All these years we've known each other and I have yet to hear your opinion on brunch."

Clark blinks and follows Barry out of the room, who is also followed by an unamused Victor.

* * *

 

The next evening Clark comes home to find the house completely empty. He calls for Bruce and then Alfred. There's no answer, so he hangs up his coat and heads down to the cave. He tries to listen for Bruce's heartbeat and he gets nervous when he can't hear it.

"Bruce?" He tries again and breathes a sigh of relief when Bruce comes rushing into view. He looks like a deer caught in headlights but he's able to quickly school his expression.

"Clark! You're home early."

"I always get home at six." Clark is beginning to get suspicious.

Bruce glances at his watch. "Is it six already?"

"Ah, Master Kent, there you are. Right on time." Alfred comes around the corner and smiles warmly at Clark. "I was just trying to convince Master Wayne to take a night off from patrol. Perhaps you could be more persuasive."

There's no insinuating tone from Alfred, but Clark manages to blush anyway.

"Uh–"

But Bruce doesn't let him finish. He shakes his head and turns around, heading for the suit.

"I can't take tonight off, Alfred. I need to make a few more modifications to the suit and then I'm leaving. This is the only night Gordon has time to discuss a plan to get Arkham a better lockdown system."

Alfred sighs and looks like he's at a loss. "I hope you're not too disappointed, Master Kent."

Clark is slightly upset by the way Bruce brushes both of them off, but he manages a smile. "Not at all, Alfred."

* * *

For three days after that, Bruce goes on patrol because he needs to track a shipment of something. When Clark offers to help, Bruce firmly tells him no. That's never happened before, and Clark is always suspicious when he hears the word "shipment." But Bruce isn't cold to him, nor is he distant. In fact, he's completely normal until patrol rolls around.

So when Clark has been dealing with this for four days in a row and he receives a call from his mother asking if he can help with some things around the farm tomorrow evening, Clark is more than happy to help. 

He's so anxious to get out of the house that he arrives one hour early and sees his mother hurrying out of the door.

"Ma?"

"Oh!" She startles and nearly drops her purse. "Clark, I didn't expect you to be here for another hour!"

Clark shrugs and looks remorseful. "I know, but I just needed to get out of the house and away from everything. I needed to be home."

Martha looks at him oddly, but with a motherly concern. "Don't you consider the Lakehouse your main home?"

"Not for the last few days. It's really weird there, Ma. Bruce will act normal one minute and then the next he's only speaking to me in gruff, one-word sentences."

Martha smiles knowingly and pats Clark's arm. "I'm sure that will all be cleared up soon, honey. I need to run to the store to buy some more ingredients for baking, but since you're here early, feel free to relax."

Clark smiles at the familiarity of it all. "Thanks, but I'm itching to do some chores."

Martha laughs heartily. "I never thought I'd hear you say that!"

Clark waves as his mother drives off and then gets to work.

* * *

After he finishes placing fresh hay in the feedbox, he checks his phone for the time. It's been almost an hour since Ma left, and he's about to text her when he sees a message notification.

_"I'm going to be another half-hour. One of the ladies at the diner is having a rough time and needs to talk. Help yourself to anything in the fridge. Love, Ma."_

Clark smiles fondly at the signature and shakes his head. He's putting his phone back in his pocket when he hears a car approaching. He's halfway out of the barn when he sees the familiar car come to a stop. 

"Bruce?" He asks when he sees a shiny shoe step out of the car.

Once Bruce is in full view, Clark raises his eyebrows at the attire he's wearing. It's not an Armani suit, but it's pretty darn close. Bruce's way of "dressing down," really.

Bruce smiles at him and walks over. "Hi," he says.

"Hi. What are you doing here?" He's completely clueless.

Bruce grins at Clark's tone and shrugs one shoulder lightly. "I missed you."

"You missed me."

"Yes."

"You flew out and then drove here because you missed me? I've only been gone for an hour, Bruce."

Bruce is acting like nothing is weird about the situation, and Clark's first two thoughts are:  _He's brainwashed_ and  _Am I going crazy?_

They have a staring match for a few minutes until Bruce finally sighs and returns to normal. "I see the corn hasn't completely grown yet."

Clark is still uncertain, but at least Bruce's tone isn't a forced cheerfulness. "It's almost to Ma's shoulders, so she shouldn't get lost anytime soon."

Bruce smirks. "I'm not worried about  _her_ getting lost." He looks pointedly at Clark.

"I could find my way through the cornfield even before I started getting my powers," Clark brags, knowing that Bruce won't be able to tell if he's lying or not.

The look on Bruce's face is priceless, but he soon smiles mischievously and nods towards the corn. "Show me how."

They walk a few feet into the field and Bruce doesn't even flinch at the corn stalks brushing his ironed suit pants. 

"Do you really want me to show you?"

"Yes. But there's something that's been on my mind for awhile now and I just haven't been able to bring it up."

Clark sees Bruce's hand reach into his pocket and he begins to feel lightheaded. He has a morbid thought:  _"So this is how it ends. He brought me out to the field to kill me, just like an old dog whose time has come."_

But the thought of Bruce killing him is irrational (now, anyway). Even so, Clark takes a few steps back.

"What are-"

Bruce walks towards him, not even noticing Clark's apprehension. Bruce looks like he's warring with himself, and Clark doesn't like the way Bruce's eyebrows are furrowed together. It almost looks like he's in pain.

Clark looks through Bruce's pocket and watches the lead box be removed. His eyes return to Bruce's.

They've moved a bit due to Clark's backing away and Bruce moving towards him.

"Clark, I trust you completely, and I know that you trust me..." Bruce trails off and sighs, looking at the ground. "I had it all planned out in my head. It was perfect."

"Why?" Clark's voice is strained and that causes Bruce to look at him.

"Why what?"

"Don't play dumb with me." Clark's voice is dark.

"What?" Bruce is completely caught off guard and his eyes have widened slightly.

"How can you ask me that? How could you bring that here?" He gestures to the box in Bruce's hand. 

Bruce looks at it for a moment before looking back at Clark. "I thought–"

"You thought  _what_?"

"That we were on the same page."

"Ha!" Clark's laugh is bitter. "So you thought that it would be completely okay for you to just show up with that thing? That I would just go right along with it and say 'Sure! Why not? I'm fine with that!'" He can't even call the kryptonite by its name, he's so disgusted.

Bruce's eyes darken and his demeanor completely shifts. It's something even darker than Batman, and it's simultaneously present and distant.

"I thought that this was what you wanted-"

"You  _what?!"_ Clark's voice rises an octave and rises in volume. "You have got to be kidding me! You're not stupid, Bruce!"

"Apparently I am."

"You actually thought that..." Clark runs a hand over his face and huffs out a cold laugh. "I thought that we would at least talk about it first. That I would be part of that conversation, or that I would be the first one to bring it up. How could you think that it would be okay to just throw this on me?"

"I–"

"You know I heard you and Alfred talking about this exact thing?"

Bruce's face begins to lose its color. "You what?" His voice is hardly audible.

"Months ago, I overheard you and Alfred talking about it. 'Clark can't see through lead. He's never going to see it if I don't want him to.' I can't believe that you were actually thinking about never bringing this up!" 

A small light of understanding shows on Bruce's face and he stands up a bit straighter, more confidently. "I know, Clark. That was wrong of me, and I'm sorry. But–"

"'I would have given Clark access to the lead safe until this,'" Clark mimicks Bruce's voice and points to the box in his hand.

Bruce visibly deflates again but remain silent.

There's a pregnant pause before Clark says lowly, "'Clark's knowledge will change everything.'"

Bruce doesn't even have the nerve to flinch. 

"I can't believe you."

There's another long span of silence before Bruce is closing himself off and standing as stiff as a board. He's glaring at Clark now with something completely unreadable darkening his eyes. 

"I can't believe  _you_ ," Bruce rasps. "Are you sure you're thinking clearly?"

Clark scoffs. "Do you think I'm crazy or something? No, Bruce, I promise you that I am completely clear-headed." And he doesn't even know where the next sentence comes from, but he's biting out, "And Diana was in on the whole thing. I should have known."

Something snaps in Bruce; Clark can tell by the way his right eye twitches.

"What is your obsession with her all of the sudden?"

"You're with her practically all the time!"

"Are you jealous?" Bruce hisses.

"Maybe I am! How could I not be jealous when you're hanging out with a literal goddess?!" 

Bruce's jaw clenches and his nostrils flare. "If you're so desperate for a beautiful woman, why don't you go back to Lois?" His tone is cruel.

It hits Clark like a punch to the diaphragm and he hides the pain behind a bark of laughter. Somehow Bruce had misunderstood what Clark meant, but he doesn't care anymore. He just wants to hurt Bruce back, so he smirks darkly.

"Gladly." He doesn't see the shocked and betrayed expression on Bruce's face as he flies off.

 


	10. UPDATE

Hi everyone! I just wanted to post an update on the story. Work has picked up a lot recently, so my ability to work on this story will be slowed for a bit. But I promise I won't forget about it! I have the whole next part outlined, so I just have to fill it out and make it into an actual story. Haha But yeah, updates will be very slow for the next month or so, and I apologize, but real life must come first. (xP) 

I also want to thank everyone again for commenting and reading!<3 I am so happy that you all are enjoying this story and reading your comments just makes my day and makes me so happy you have no idea.<3


	11. If I could turn back time.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clark finds out what Bruce had been trying to ask him all this time, and deals with the consequences.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When two sentences are side-by-side: "Like this." "And like this."  
> That means that two characters are speaking at the same time.

Clark is so angry that he's shaking. He thinks he's got it under control until he starts seeing red; that's when he knows that he can't keep flying around. The flight has hardly helped; he's barely burnt off enough energy to start calming down. 

Suddenly, he realizes that he's flying over Metropolis, and before he realizes it he's heading for Lois's apartment. Once he's floating outside of the small balcony, he sees his reflection in the mirror and hardly recognizes himself. His shoulders are slumped in defeat, his hair is disheveled, and his eyes are sorrowful. Lois shouldn't see him like this, but he has to talk to someone. 

As he raises his hand to tap on the window, Lois sees him and opens the door. She's in a gorgeous, dark red evening gown and everything but her hair looks perfectly put together. Despite what just happened with Bruce, it surprises Clark when he doesn't feel the old kind of attraction he'd once had for Lois.

"Clark?" She sounds slightly out of breath and her blue eyes are bright but bulging. "What are you doing here?" 

Clark tilts his head in curiosity at how shocked Lois sounds. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah, yeah I'm great! But, aren't you supposed to be with Bruce?"

Clark barks out a bitter laugh but it's more a sigh than an actual sound. Lois's own head tilts in confusion.

"I'm actually here to talk to you about that..." He trails off when he sees a figure appear from the darkened hallway.

"Lois? Is everything alright?"

That's Diana's voice. That's Diana coming up to Lois's side and looking just as surprised and bewildered as Lois.

Clark realizes what he's interrupted and he wants to kick himself so hard that he'll faceplant on the moon. No, not the moon––a red sun, because Clark sees the dark pink dress on Diana and notices the opened box of chocolates and a card on the coffee table. 

Today is Valentine's Day.

Everything just got one million times worse.

"Why would he choose today?" Clark thought aloud, his voice soft and far away as he stared at the chocolates.

Diana smiled slightly in amusement. "Isn't it obvious? I admit that I didn't think he would be cheesy enough–"

But Lois can clearly see the heartbreak written on her good friend's face, so she holds up a hand to silence Diana.

"Clark," she says more firmly, causing his gaze to lock onto hers, "what happened?"

There's a long pause as Clark tries to think of what to say. He doesn't want to burden Lois with this right now, but he knows that she won't let him go without getting a proper answer.

"Clark," Lois repeats.

Clark sighs. "I don't want to ruin your night. Honestly, it'll be fine."

Now Diana's brow is furrowed in concern and she steps a bit closer to him. "You should go back to Bruce–"

"No." The sharpness of his voice surprises him. "I'm sorry. It's just that we had a falling out..."

Diana and Lois both look like deer in headlights. "You  _what_?" They ask simultaneously, completely dumbfounded.

"But I thought–"

"It doesn't matter, Lois. Please, don't worry about me and just enjoy your night. Please." He gives her a shaky smile and hopes it doesn't look too pitiful.

Lois stares him down but Clark merely shrugs.

"You know I won't ever forgive myself if you put tonight aside for me."

With a frustrated sigh, Lois relents. "Fine. Just promise me that you'll be careful tonight. We'll talk tomorrow."

"Sounds good." He gives one more smile and wave to Lois and Diana before flying off.

* * *

The corn is swaying in a cool night breeze and Clark has a wave of nostalgia wash over him. One of his favorite things to do as a boy was to go outside and listen to the corn swish. The breeze would carry the scent of hay and corn across the field, and since Clark never had to worry about allergies, he'd always take a deep breath and savor it the scent. He does the same thing right now, but it's tainted with the emotion of recent events.

The kitchen door is closed but the light is still on, so Ma is probably just starting to wind down for the night. He hates to bother her, but he has to talk to someone.

He knocks on the rickety screen door (already rickety since Bruce had replaced it when he got the house back...) and hears the shuffling of feet and some muttering.

The door opens and Ma stands there in her robe looking for all the world like an actual alien is standing in front of her. She blinks a few times and tries to talk, but no words come out.

"Clark, what on earth are you doing here?"

Clark wonders if he's bothering her. His heart sinks as he asks, "Is this a bad time?"

Ma shakes out of it and opens the screen door to let him in. "No, no! Of course not. I'm just surprised to see you here, is all. I thought you'd be with Bruce."

"Lois and Diana thought the same thing," he says as he sits at the kitchen table. 

Ma closes the door then sits across from him. "So, why aren't you?" She's smiling, and Clark is beginning to feel like he's stepped into an alternate reality where everyone is against him.

"Why?" He asks incredulously. Ma's smile begins to fade. "Maybe it has something to do with the fact that he was going to do something awful."

Ma doesn't say anything, but her face takes on a grim expression. She sits down across from her son and watches him closely and carefully.

"I can't believe he would pick Valentine's Day, of all days, to bring it up," he continues, running a hand over his face.

"It could be considered cliche for him, but I think-"

But Clark is too riled up to listen to what his Ma is saying, so he talks over her. "I mean, okay, I get that we were drifting apart, but really? How could he do this, Ma?"

Martha is completely confused now, especially at the teary-eyed look on her son's face. "You were drifting apart?" Her voice is soft.

"I think so. Bruce and Diana were spending a lot of time together, and normally I wouldn't think anything of it, but I started to get suspicious. Then Lois told me that she and Diana had started seeing each other, so I was just confused. But I know that Bruce is bored with me."

"Not this again, Clark-"

"If he isn't bored with me then he just doesn't trust me anymore-"

They begin to talk over each other. 

"I don't know what he was going to do with it-"

"You are surprising me with your reaction, Clark-"

"How could he even ask me such a question?"

"Are you kidding me? You have to be messing with me. Clark, I was certain that you wanted this-"

"What?! You _knew_ about this?!"    "Of course I knew about this! He asked me about it and asked for my permission. Why do you think I was leaving today after I'd asked you to help me?"

Who are you right now? Why on earth would you think that I want that?!"

"You're acting crazy, Clark! Have you been brainwashed or something?"

"He had kryptonite with him, Ma!"        "The man asks you to marry him and you act like it's the biggest insult in your life!"

The room is plunged into a cold, chilling silence. The air feels heavy and dead, almost like a boulder. Mother and son stare at each other with wide eyes, not sure they have heard each other correctly.

"He was going to what?" Clark asks, voice barely audible. It feels like he's speaking from outside of his body as he stares at his mother.

Ma huffs in disappointment and shakes her head. "You mean you didn't even give him the chance to ask you?"

"The box was lined with lead." Clark only sounds confused, not bitter. Temperatures have never really affected him, but the feeling he has right now has to be akin to what others feel when they have ice water dumped on them.

"He didn't want you to see the ring and spoil the surprise."

Clark is speechless. It all starts to make sense now, but he's been so certain of the kryptonite for so long that it's hard to let it go and realize the truth. The pieces all start coming together: the conversation he overheard Bruce having with Alfred, the times Bruce was debating whether or not to ask the question, the way Bruce was acting so torn earlier that evening...

The look on Bruce's face when Clark cruelly denied him.

Clark feels sick to his stomach. He might actually throw up for the first time in twenty-something years. The color drains from his face and his mouth has fallen open slightly.

"I..." His voice is raspy and he can't continue speaking. It feels like there isn't enough air in his lungs, even though he doesn't need to breathe. A heavy feeling of dread comes over him and the world seems to darken.

"Clark?" Ma's voice is loud and too close.

His eyes snap over to her (he'd looked away at the floor at some point) but sees that she's still sitting across from him. She hasn't moved.

How long has he been quiet like this?

"Clark," Ma says gently, reaching out to cover his hand with hers.

Clark blinks and closes his mouth. It's dry. "I was so sure that it was kryptonite. How could I have thought that, though? Bruce would never... Oh, Ma, his  _face_ when I- I said such horrible things."

He'd forgotten his words in the heat of his anger, but they were all starting to return to him punishingly. His eyes are burning and he doesn't even have to blink because the tears are pouring down his face instantly.

The weight of what he's done crushes him and he can already feel his loss of what he and Bruce had together. He folds his arms on the table and rests his head on them and begins to sob. The sobs rack his body; sobs of relief that Bruce hadn't been getting bored of Clark, relief that Bruce hadn't been trying to kill him or stop him or hoard kryptonite away without talking to Clark about it first; but sobs of grief are mixed in. He sobs in regret for the horrible, unthinkable things he'd said to Bruce, and sobs his grief at the loss of their relationship, because he  _knows_ there's no coming back from this. 

"That poor man," Ma thinks aloud, softly. "Getting up all of that courage to ask you the one thing he never thought he'd ask someone."

Knowing that he would have to balance the cowl and work on maintaining a serious, intimate relationship... Bruce... How long had he been working up the courage to ask those four words "Will you marry me?" How many years...? What even made him decide that wanted that? When they'd first started dating, Bruce admitted that he would probably never want to get married. Too many other things were important. Clark had been disappointed, of course, but he loved Bruce so much that just being able to live in the same house as him (and see him almost every day) had been more than enough. Clark never asked for much.

And he'd never mentioned marriage again in consideration of Bruce, because he knew that the topic made Bruce uncomfortable and nervous (especially nervous that Clark would leave him because of it). Yet Bruce had made the conscious decision to ask Clark to marry him...

"He will never forgive me," Clark says into his arms. "He shouldn't ever forgive me." He can feel his own heart breaking, but he deserves it (or does he? Clark is angry at himself for having the gall to mourn over something that is his fault!). Bruce, on the other hand, doesn't deserve to have his heart broken. Clark can't even begin to fathom how much Bruce's heart is breaking right now. Will it ever be put back together again?

"You need to talk to him, sweetheart," Ma advises gently.

"He won't want to talk to me. I can't blame him."

"Just give him some time."

Clark lifts his head up and can feel the tears beginning to tighten his skin as they dry and are replaced by new ones. "All the time in the world couldn't make him want to see me or hear me ever again."

Ma shakes her head. "Maybe. But I doubt it. Call it a mother's intuition. Give it a few days and then try calling him."

"I can't believe you're being so kind to me right now. I wouldn't."

"Oh, I am furious with you, but I know that you're beating yourself up more than I ever could. And if it wouldn't break my hand, I'd have slapped you earlier."

It's slightly funny because Ma is serious, but it's mostly not funny because Ma is serious. There is an angry fire in her eyes right now and Clark can feel himself burning up with his shame.

* * *

A few days pass and Clark spends the time helping Ma with chores around the farm. Lois had called him the day after Valentine's Day and asked what had happened between him and Bruce. He explained everything and wasn't surprised by the silence on the other end of the line. What had surprised him, however (but not in hindsight), was when he'd had to hold the phone away from his ear as Lois shouted at him.

He'd heard her tell Diana what was going on, and Diana muttered, "I knew I should have used my lasso of truth on both of them..."

So everyone had known about the imminent proposal except for Clark. That didn't bother him, and it still doesn't bother him. What does bother him, though, is that he'd let his rash thinking go way too far.

Every minute of those three days, Clark found himself thinking about Bruce and wondering how and what he was doing right then. He also continued to mourn the loss, and he would have put off calling Bruce had Ma not been adamant about it. 

"I already know it's over, Ma. I don't think I can bear to hear Bruce say it out loud, though."

"I thought you said he wouldn't talk to you?"

"Ma-"

"I wouldn't blame him, anyway, and you would deserve to hear it." It had been said in a harsh, firm tone, but not cruel. Ma could never be cruel.

And, as always, Ma was absolutely right.

So now Clark finds himself standing outside of the barn and staring at his phone. It seems like hours pass before he lifts a shaky finger and presses Bruce's name in the "favorites" list.

There's no answer. That had been expected. Clark leaves a message.

"It's me. I have no idea what to say, Bruce, except... I'm sorry. I am so, so sorry. I wish I could just explain to you what happened and why I reacted the way I did, but I'm sure you don't want to hear it. And I don't blame you. I just... I love you, Bruce. I'm sorry." He gets too choked up to continue so he has to hang up and call again. 

"It's me again. I know you're probably going to delete these messages before you even hear them, but I have to hold on to a little bit of hope... even though I don't deserve to. I thought, for some idiotic reason that I can't even explain, that you had kryptonite in that lead-lined box. But it all makes sense now, and for what it's worth, I appreciate the effort you put in to hide the ring from me... because, even though I have good control over my powers, there are moments where I get caught up with something and unthinkingly look at something with my X-ray vision. I promise I never did that to people, though, especially when we were together... Okay, that was a lame joke. I'm sorry."

He isn't sure what else to say, so he hangs up again.

* * *

One week passes and Clark staying at the farm and reusing his few outfits becomes the new normal. He can't bring himself to get his things from the house, and he doubts that Bruce will even bother making the effort to return them; not even bother to mail them...he'll probably burn them or have Alfred take care of them...have Alfred throw them out.

There's no major event that needs the Justice League, so Clark has no excuse or opportunity to see Bruce. He's resigned himself to never seeing Bruce again, or just seeing him when they're Batman and Superman and saying as little to each other as possible, but there's a small, urgent part of him that's just itching to try and have a talk face-to-face.

Ma thinks that's a good idea, but Clark still can't bring himself to do it. He knows that he probably seems like a coward to Bruce, or even worse: that Bruce is getting the impression that Clark never wants to see him again and has cut him off completely, but that knowledge just makes Clark loathe himself even more, and that turns into a spiral of "I don't deserve to ever see Bruce again."

He doesn't talk to Lois, Diana, or any of the other members of the League during that week. Ma sees him begin to isolate himself, and she lets it go on for one week before she sits him down one morning and gives him a deathly glare.

If Ma had superpowers, Clark would be dead right now just from the way her eyes are piercing through him. She's standing in front of him with her arms crossed, and Clark feels like a little boy again who has just gotten into major trouble.

"Enough of this, Clark," Ma says sternly. Anger and frustration are evident in her tone, but again, there is a gentleness to it. Mothers, Clark guesses. "You are going to talk to Bruce face-to-face. I don't care if you interrupt his precious patrol time or whatever it is he's doing. If you never talk to him, you'll never know what could have been. You will regret it for the rest of your life. I know that Bruce hasn't reached out, but can you blame him?"

"No," Clark admits. 

"So the two of you need to have one final talk to settle things out."

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope this long chapter made up for my absence! I still have a busy few weeks ahead of me but there will be days where I have off. Hopefully my muse will be strong enough that I can post more! Thank you all so much for sticking with me and sending kudos and encouraging comments!!<3


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